


two hundred and sixty-four dollars

by MajorEnglishEsquire



Series: PWP: Pie Without Plot [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Baking, Food, M/M, Muggle Quidditch, PWP: Pie Without Plot, Post-Season/Series 08, Team Free Will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 12:46:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5456999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MajorEnglishEsquire/pseuds/MajorEnglishEsquire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pies in the food truck.<br/>Cookies and brownies with Tracy and Alice.<br/>A ruthless hunt for anything that would dare go bump in the night.</p><p>That was the damn <i>plan</i>, at least.</p><p>Prompted by <a href="http://guardianofplaid.tumblr.com/post/135302561779/when-your-math-worksheet-is-lowkey-destiel-af">this post by guardianofplaid</a> and <a href="http://apocalypse-patisserie.tumblr.com/post/135353696083/guardianofplaid-when-your-math-worksheet-is">originally posted here</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	two hundred and sixty-four dollars

Dean rubs at his forehead and breathes.

So. Okay.

If he doesn't fly off the handle with how absurd it is, he can laugh about it.

There's a tentative touch at his back and he just blindly hands Cas the laminated nametags.

"Dan and Castel," Cas reads off of them. "I think I'm pronouncing that right. _Cast-el_ , he repeats."

"This is. This is just." Dean's still reeling.

"Well. At least we're somewhat incognito. And we have official permission to be on campus, now," Cas points out.

Yeah. Yeah, okay, fine.

Cas puts the stupid lanyard around his neck and ropes Dean with his own. "I believe we have work to do, Dan," he goes for it, full-throttle and deadpan, kisses the side of his face.

"Thanks whatever-your-name-is."

Dean and Cas have the truck to themselves, today, and permission to be parked in whatever lot the ole beast will fit its huge ass into. Sam, Tracy, and Alice broke off to one of her teammate's apartments because there's an oven there.

The one in the truck is already fired up.

"Pies," Dean titles the scrap paper on the counter.

"Dean, I doubt college students will buy entire pies."

"It won't just be the Loyola kids coming for the bake sale, Cas, it will be the neighborhood and the Quidditch fans. Alice said people come from all over to watch. They'll wanna support them, too. And, anyway, are you telling me - realistically - that once they've had one slice of your s'mores pie they won't be back for an entire tin of it?"

Cas's eyes crinkle and he tilts into Dean a little which is as close as he gets to preening over the flattery.

"Pumpkin, apple, pecan, fuck it. I'm going whole-hog, here. I want all fall pies. I want people to be disappointed by their mothers at Thanksgiving."

"I just assumed, from what Tracy said, that a bake sale here would benefit more from snacks that students can take away and eat when they've been smoking marijuana."

Dean points with his pencil, "We can always hope they get stoned before they cruise the tables."

«»

Sam calls when they're still at the farmer's market getting produce that Cas can approve of.

"What's on fire?" Dean answers.

Sam scoffs. "I just need to know what to do if we accidentally doubled the baking soda."

"Double the recipe, double the fun."

"We don't have enough ingredients for that," Sam audibly cringes.

Dean blows out a breath. "Any chance you didn't just throw it on top of some flour? Like can you use the measuring spoon to scoop enough of it out? If you can see it, that is."

"Hold on," Sam says, and the shifting causes static, the phone pressed between ear and shoulder. "Can I have that back? Okay. Uh. It's on top of some sugar."

"If you lose some sugar, no big deal. You can't have too much of the baking soda, though - that's more salty."

There's a tense moment before Sam announces:  
"Got it."

"Loosen up, it's not fucking organic chemistry. You don't have to be perfect," Dean reminds him.

"I mean, in a way it kind of _is_ organic chemistry, though, because-"

"Hanging up, now."  
And he does.

«»

It's the pre-season for Quidditch. That means a bake sale to raise awareness of the sport and try to get new robes for everybody. Alice mentioned it would be the perfect time for Tracy to invite her "foodie friends" back down to NOLA.

Dean didn't have to be convinced, even if it was more for Alice than Tracy. They had planned to get back into town for the summer to see Tracy and her family and Marta and everyone they left behind, but it just didn't pan out.

"No excuses, now. Buddig Hall," he reminded Sam. And Sam had cringed.

You know, it's New Orleans. People talk shit about seeing spirits and ghosts all over the place. But Sam did a little too much digging one day and actually substantiated a story of demonic contact from former residents of the dorm.

There's no way they're gonna let Tracy live there one more goddamn semester without sneaking in, knocking out the power, and going floor to floor sweeping for EMF.

There are other hunters, ones who specialize in Louisiana's particular brand of weirdness, but if there's anybody Dean doesn't trust? It's other fucking hunters.

Cas had grimly agreed. "We won't have to knock out the power. Man our table while the sale's going on and I'll sweep the building, myself."

So they had a plan.

Pies in the food truck.  
Cookies and brownies with Tracy and Alice.  
A ruthless hunt for anything that would dare go bump in the night.

That was the damn _plan_ , at least.

«»

Sam _knows the plan_. But Sam isn't very good at taming a bunch of (half-stoned) enthusiastic college kids with souvenir wizard wands.

"Where the hell have you guys been?!" Alice practically howls, dancing around on a (presumed) sugar high as Dean and Cas trudge back to the parking lot a little worse for wear.

Behind her.

Oh fuck him sideways.

Behind her, Sam has been bequeathed his very own robe. And he has, in his giant hands, what appears to be the last piece of the s'mores pie.

Goddamnit.

"What the fuck happened here?"

"This pie is amazing!" says some red-head trying to balance his plate and his stupid broom.

"Sam. SAM. We were supposed to sell these."

"Try before you buy!" Alice says.

"You guys have more, right?" Tracy says from behind a napkin.

And everyone slowly turns to see Dean and Cas and the state they're in.

And. Suddenly.  
This bake sale is maybe not gonna go as well as everyone thought.

Sam cringes and puts down the tin and comes to usher them out of sight.

"Okay?" he starts once they're out beyond hearing, in the shade of a soaring tree.

Cas clears his throat first and admits: "The RAs didn't think it was appropriate for a man of my age to be wandering-" he rolls his eyes at himself and cops to it. " _Methodically inspecting_ every floor of a dorm building where some residents happen to still be under the age of-"

"He got arrested. By the campus police," Dean nods, hurrying this along. "Did you just give all my fucking pies away for free??"

"Nice to see where your priorities are, Dean! Did you get Cas out yourself?" he turns to him. "Are they looking for you? Did you run? Shit-- did you actually find something?"

Cas turns to slump against the tree. "The dorms are clear. Ouija boards don't do much in the hands of the inexperienced and ungifted so I don't think we have to worry about those that are kept for novelty's sake. I didn't sense anything threatening. I would guess that at least some of the religious staff do their duties in keeping to the blessings and calling to saints. The dorms are safe."

"I convinced the cops he was on a tour with 'our niece' and wandered off and got lost. He pretended like he was from another country."

Cas spouts off something in Russian and they both just turn and blink at him.

When Sam turns back, Dean's glaring at him. "What?"

"THE PIES."

"You and pie, I fucking swear," he sighs. "They wanted to try everything before we set it out to sell and. And." He reels a hand in the air. "The whole team showed up and it just. Kinda got out of control," he winces, guilty.

"You goddamn geek," Dean hisses at him and starts trudging back to the truck, whipping his jacket off. He fans 'witches' and 'wizards' out of the way as he climbs back up and cranks on the oven.

«»

Cas manages a few of his no-bake specialties, but Dean doesn't construct many more pies before the crowds have come and dwindled again.

Between what remains of their own goodies and the stuff Tracy and Alice threw together with Sam, they only make $264.

Dean had such high hopes.

He was gonna crush it. He was gonna make Tracy _so proud_. He was gonna make sure those dorks running around with brooms between their legs had the best-looking robes in the damn country.

The sun's near setting when they have to admit no one else is coming by.

He catches Sam's eye with a pissed-off glare whenever Sam chances to see him rounding-rounding-rounding his dishcloth over the counter in the truck, defeated and knowing exactly which bookworm is to blame.

Sam snorts laughing half the time. Doesn't do a very good job of looking innocent.

Alice takes it in great spirits. The other tables at the bake sale did pretty well and, all-in-all, there's quite a cash haul for the upcoming Quidditch season, and a bunch of kids across town went home with owl- and lightning-bolt-shaped cookies and promises from their parents that they'd get to see a match.

Tracy climbs up into the truck and Cas goes out to fold up the table. Squeezes her shoulder in passing.

She elbows into Dean's side.

"Thanks."

"We could have-"

" _Thank you_ , Dean," she looks worried to be insisting it and, at the same time, determined to do so.

And she goes a little red. Like she does in her quiet way, trying not to get too emotional because they're both uncomfortable with that.

He sighs. Remembering that _she's_ the reason they're here. He doesn't care about Quidditch or bake sales. Her dorm is safe to sleep in and her friends are thrilled with all the free pie they scarfed down.

Tracy's got people looking out for her. Getting arrested for her. Having fun with her. Letting her borrow an oven and making damn cookies with her.

And she's got them. Sam and his dorkitude and Cas and his occasional shiftiness and Dean who tries to hang onto control when sometimes it's more enjoyable to just let go.

He loops his arm over her shoulders. "You get to try enough of the pies?"

"Yeah. Autumn pies. They were awesome. But. I gotta say? I miss the summer stuff sometimes," she smiles up at him.

"And you haven't tried our winter goodies. Peppermint everywhere," he gestures, grand and encompassing.

"Can I look forward to some samples? Maybe next month? Or. You know. Something like that. Sometime soon?"

Dean considers her. "I could bring Sam back to help you study for finals."

She wedges in closer and gives him a hug. "Thanks, Uncle Dan."

"Goddamnit."


End file.
